Wildflowers: The Autobiography of Lily Evans
by The Bookmaker
Summary: From a muggle child, to a teen witch; from a young woman in love, to a wife and a mother; from an exceptional student to a brave wizarding warrior, this is the story of the life of Lily Evans Potter.
1. Prologue

_ I've decided that today I start my autobiography. Not because I'm famous, or because I want to share my story with the entire wizarding world, but simply because I want to preserve my memories of this crazy, wonderful, magical life and the people I am fortunate enough to share it with. One day when we've grown old, when my auburn hair has faded to gray and my husband James' boyish blue eyes are framed by wrinkles, I want us to look back on our lives and remember how happy we were, and how it all started. One day, when my son, Harry, has grown into a man I want to show this to him so he knows the power of a love like his parents shared and shared with him. I want him to understand that peace in our wizarding world was worth fighting for, and that we fight this battle now in hopes that he will not have to face the horrors we see every day. I want him to understand that everything we do, we do for him, and for future generations. I want to recognize my friends and colleagues who risk their lives, and those who have lost their lives, fighting this horrible, yet necessary battle. One day, I want to write that we were victorious, that the Death Eaters and Voldemort have been defeated, and that the world can live in peace once more. My name is Lily Potter and this is my story._


	2. Chapter 1

_**Author Notes: Thank you for continuing to read. This first chapter provides a lot of background information. There will be a much more active plot in chapters to come. Please enjoy. Reviews are always appreciated.**_

**Chapter 1**

I was born on July 7, 1957 to muggle parents. We lived in a modest, two story house in Binley Woods, just outside of Coventry, England. My father, Chester Evans, was an accountant, and my mother, Sophia Evans, was a part time florist, making beautiful bouquets from the flowers she grew in her gardens and greenhouse. Mother loved flowers, which is how I got the name Lily, and my older sister got the name Petunia. They were Mum's two favorites.

I couldn't have asked for a more loving or close-knit family. We had dinner together every single night. We went to the movies together, and to the park. In the winter we always went ice-skating at a nearby pond. Petunia and I would race around on the ice. She always beat me. Finally when our fingers and noses were so cold we couldn't take the freezing air anymore, we went home to huge mugs of rich hot cocoa. We always liked sneaking up to Dad and putting our cold hands on the back of his neck when he wasn't paying attention. We'd startle him and laugh so hard we'd fall to the floor. Then Dad would scoop both of us up and call us his wildflowers, tickling us until we giggled and screamed.

In summer we would help Mum take care of her flowers. I had a little green watering can and I'd skip through the flower gardens, watering the beautiful plants. I'd always pick the flower I thought was the most beautiful and tuck it in my hair behind my right ear. Somewhere I still have an old muggle photograph of me posing with that watering can, a lovely pink carnation in my hair and another in my hand. I was grinning so widely that you could see a gap in my smile where I'd lost one of my front teeth.

I have another picture of Petunia, dressed in a white sundress and a big floppy white hat, her lanky arms and legs glowing in the summer sun. She is posing, smelling one of the carnations with a hint of a smile on her lips. She looks beautiful. Petunia always had a charming elegance about her, even as a girl. She walked lightly on her toes and always held her head high in the air, letting her long, golden brown hair flow behind her. She'd taken ballet classes since she was six, and always looked like she was dancing when she moved. It was something I always secretly envied.

Petunia had such a wholesome beauty. Her complexion was a creamy ivory, and always had a warm glow. Her dark narrow eyes and arched brows were dramatic and daring, and her nose was petite and pointed. She had my father's very strong jaw line and a wide mouth, which curved into a beautiful smile, revealing a perfect set of teeth. She was tall, and, although I know it always made her self-conscious, it was fitting for her. She always took charge of situations and knew how to command attention when she wanted it.

As Petunia began to grow older, she became more and more of a perfectionist. She was very hard on herself at times, but her determination at such a young age was unbelievable. She made my parents very proud. She always earned high marks in school, got to be the lead in nearly all of her dance recitals, was quite gifted at playing piano, and also studied flute. She desperately wanted a horse for riding, but Mum and Dad couldn't afford it, plus, we didn't have enough land for a horse. I think Petunia was always secretly a little bitter about this, though she never mentioned it or complained.

As for me, I followed in my sister's footsteps in a lot of ways. I too always worked very hard academically, bringing home marks that made Mum and Dad proud. I especially loved art class. My teacher told me I was one of the best young painters she'd seen in a long time. I was somewhat athletic too. I liked to go running, and when I got my first grown up bike I loved riding around the development.

When it came to appearance, I always felt like the outcast of my family. Mum and Petunia had the same dark eyes, and long straight hair, although Mum's was a lighter gold and Petunia's was golden brown. Petunia's face was shaped like Dad's and she'd also inherited his height. I didn't really look like any of them. People would always tell me that my eyes were shaped like Dad's, but the resemblance stopped there. No one else in my family had huge green eyes, or fire-red hair for that matter. And no one else's hair was the least bit curly.

I was small for my age and skinny, with knobby knees and bony fingers. My crazy red curls were untamable, I had a big forehead, wide nose, and an annoying dusting of freckles across the bridge of my nose and cheeks. Next to Petunia's gracefulness I always felt even more awkward. I was like a tacky Christmas ornament—red and green.

Nevertheless, Petunia and I were each other's best friends. When I was nine and she left for boarding school, I cried and cried.

"I'll write you every week, Lils," she promised as she hugged me tightly at the train station.

"I'm going to miss you." My eyes started to tear up.

"Oh, Lil, don't cry." Her eyes looked watery too. "I'll visit as often as I can. And remember, in two years you'll be coming along to school with me, right?"

"Right," I replied with a small smile.

"Now, take good care of Mum and Dad while I'm gone, okay?" She patted the top of my head, messing with my curls.

"I'll try," I promised.

"Write and tell me all about primary school, alright?" Petunia made me promise. I nodded, fighting back tears. My sister and I had never been apart before. "I love you, Lily."

"I love you too, Petunia." I waited while Petunia said goodbye to my parents. Mum's eyes were filled with tears.

"My little girl is growing up!" she exclaimed, holding Petunia tightly.

"My wildflowers can make a beautiful garden no matter where they go," Dad said, hugging Petunia.

"I'll miss you, Daddy," said Petunia, suddenly bursting into tears.

"I know it's a big change from what you're used to," Mum said. "But you're going to love being away at school. I've never known anyone who didn't."

"Yeah, some of my best days were spent away at boarding school," said Dad with a wink. "Staying out of trouble, of course," he added.

"Yeah right, Daddy!" I exclaimed.

"You better watch it there carrot top," he said, patting my head. "You're going to get me in trouble." Even Petunia grinned.

"Well, darling, you'd better board the train. You haven't got much time," said Mum.

"Alright," replied Petunia, grabbing her things.

My sister waved to me from the train window until she was out of sight. A few tears rolled down my cheeks. Little did I know that my sister as I knew her would never return to me again.


	3. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

Being nine years old isn't easy, especially when the sister you've had with you for your entire life is now far away for months at a time. This is what I thought about as I walked to my first day of primary school that year. The sky was a dismal gray and tiny droplets of rain spattered down, landing on my light blue jacket. I pulled my hood up over my hair. The rain would make it even frizzier than normal and Mum wouldn't be pleased that I'd spent my first day of school with my hair sticking out in all directions. I had already received a lecture on making a good first impression with my new teacher.

I walked faster as the rain started to pick up. The walk to school was only about three blocks, but without Petunia it seemed much longer. I walked by myself, because I didn't know of anyone else to walk with. Petunia and I had mostly always kept to our selves. We were each other's best friends. Sure, there were other kids we played with at school, but I never would have called any of them close friends.

I stared at my feet as I walked, wishing I had my sister. Petunia would've made sure my hair wasn't frizzy for school. She would've made sure that my shirt collar was neat and that my skirt wasn't wrinkled. She would have patted me on the back and wished me a good day, and made sure I knew where my classroom was. She'd have come to eat lunch with me and told me all about her favorite classes and teachers. But I was on my own now. Petunia had to move on. I thought about where she was now, without me. Certainly she had the more difficult situation of the two of us.

Petunia's boarding school was called St. Mary's Academy for Elite Scholars. It was almost three hours away by train, and Petunia had only visited once. She didn't know anyone she'd be going to school with. She knew only that her classes would be extremely challenging and that she had to share a dorm room with three girls she didn't know. Surely she was missing me more than I was missing her right now.

I was fortunate that I was still going to the same school I'd always gone to, with kids I knew, and that I still got to go home to Mum and Dad every night. Petunia wouldn't be home until Christmas. Christmas! It seemed forever away.

The first day of school was uneventful. So were the several weeks that followed. Every day, I checked the mail eagerly for a letter from Petunia. But, every day I found nothing.

One day, Dad noticed me flipping through the mail, sadly, wishing that maybe there was a letter sticking in between some other pieces of mail that I'd overlooked. He put his arm around me.

"I know you miss her, wildflower. I know this is hard for you," Dad looked down at me. "And I'm sure she doesn't mean to be ignoring you, or me, or your mother. She has a lot to get used to right now. She's living in a new place, with a whole bunch of new people, and taking a lot of new classes that are very involved. I'm sure she doesn't have a whole bunch of free time."

I nodded. I knew my father was right. Still, it hurt my feelings. I'd written to Petunia three times so far. I'd told her all about how I aced my first arithmetic test and got a 102% on my book report. I told her about the picture I painted of the two of us, and about how my science teacher was weird and liked to sing to himself when he thought no one was listening. But apparently none of this interested Petunia.

Finally, in the second week of October, a letter addressed to me arrived. I recognized the handwriting immediately as Petunia's. I hurriedly tore open the envelope.

_Dear Lily,_

_ I'm glad it sounds like your year is going well. I hope you are doing all right without me. Boarding school is a blast. I can't wait until you can come here with me. I'm very busy though, and our classes are really hard. I'm sorry I didn't write sooner. Do you have plans for Halloween? We get to have a big party. I'm dressing up as a witch. It's going to be a lot of fun. Also, I've made a new friend. Her name is Caroline and she lives in my dorm. We have nearly all our classes together. I can't wait for you to meet her. Hang in there, Lils. I'll see you at Christmas._

_Love,_

_Petunia_

I couldn't help but grin. Sure, it was a short letter, but still, Petunia had written me! I darted upstairs to my room and hung the letter up on the center of my bulletin board that hung over my desk. I beamed at it. Then, I sat down at my desk to write her back.

Once again, months went by and I heard nothing from Petunia. Out of boredom I'd started playing with a girl from school named Laurel, but she wasn't much fun. All she ever wanted to do was play dolls or dress up. She didn't have a bike, so we couldn't go riding, and she didn't like playing outside. Still, it was better than being alone.

One night in mid-November, I was sitting at my desk working on my history homework when someone knocked on my bedroom door.

"Come in!" I called. Mum emerged into my room. I couldn't read the expression on her face.

"Lily," she began, drawing in a deep breath. "I know Petunia told you she'd be home for Christmas, but…"

"But what?" I demanded, instantly feeling hurt. I looked up at my letter, still hanging on my bulletin board, where Petunia had written in her perfect handwriting, _I'll see you at Christmas_.

"Well, Petunia's been invited to spend Christmas with her friend Caroline's family up north. She wrote asking our permission, and your father and I decided to let her go."

"Why Mum?" I asked, my eyes tearing up.

"Well, sweetheart, we got her grades for the term and she's done extremely well. She's starting to become more grown up, and there will be plenty of Christmases, right?" she asked, ruffling my hair.

"I guess so," I muttered.

"Listen, Lily, I know this is difficult for you. But in two years you'll be away at the same school too, and you'll be making new friends and wanting to do new things. And that's a part of growing up. I know it's hard right now, but I promise, one day you'll understand. Now give me a hug, kiddo." I turned around and hugged my mother tightly, knowing in my heart that she was right.

Christmas without Petunia was like a birthday without cake. Everything was beautifully decorated, and there were large stacks of presents under the tree, still something inside of me felt empty. I couldn't find it in my heart to be excited.

My parents got me some great presents. I got a brand new sled, some really pretty sweaters, my first nice necklace, some books, and a radio for in my room. I'd done paintings for each of my parents. Mum's was of a bouquet of flowers and Dad's was a painting of our house. They loved them both and hung them on the wall by the fireplace in the sitting room. I had mailed Petunia a present too. It was the painting I'd done of the two of us. She hadn't sent anything to Mum, Dad, or me. I'd been so hopeful that something would show up.

"Maybe the mail is just slow," Dad suggested. "After all, it is the holidays." I distracted myself by helping Mum prepare our Christmas dinner, which was delicious. When I crawled into bed that night, I cried myself to sleep. I hated life without my sister. I hated that it was Christmas and she didn't even care enough to write me a letter. I hated being alone.

When I awoke the next morning, the sun was already shining brightly through my window. I jumped out of bed. It must've already been late. I darted downstairs in search of some breakfast.

"Good morning, Lily," Mum called from the sitting room, where she was sipping a cup of tea. "Something arrived in the mail for you today," she added with a smile.

"Really?" I exclaimed, instantly grinning. My father, who was sitting in a chair beside the Christmas tree, produced a small package. I quickly pulled it from his hands. It was addressed to me, in Petunia's handwriting. I ripped it open. There was a note.

_Merry Christmas, Lily!_

_I hope you're having a great time with Mum and Dad. I'm having a blast with Caroline. We've been skiing and playing in the snow. It's gorgeous here. I have to go because we're baking cookies. Miss you!_

_Love,_

_Petunia_

I smiled. Even though the letter was short, at least she'd written to me. I glanced down to see what else was in the package. It was a framed photograph of Petunia, grinning broadly, standing with her arm around another girl who I assumed was Caroline. It was easy to see how the two of them had become best friends. They both had the same tall, slender figures. I was already betting that Caroline also took ballet. Their faces were even similarly shaped, and their smiles matched. The only difference was that Caroline had white-blonde hair that she wore in braided pigtails. I turned the picture over. On the back, Petunia had written: _Me and Caroline, Christmas, First Year, St. Mary's_.

I wasn't quite sure why, but something about the picture made me feel angry. I knew on the inside what it was. I was jealous of Caroline. I wanted my best friend back. I wanted my sister back. It was supposed to be me and Petunia, no one else. But she'd abandoned me. Now she had a best friend and I was alone. I dropped the photograph to the floor and darted from the room, leaving both of my parents dumbfounded. 


	4. Chapter 3

**Author's Note: I'm really starting to enjoy writing this story. I think these first few chapters will provide a lot of insight into Lily's relationship with her sister—and don't worry, she'll be heading for Hogwarts soon enough. Please read and review. I am anxious for feedback!**

**Chapter 3**

"Lily!" Mum's voice called through my bedroom door. I kept my face buried in my pillow and didn't answer her. "Lily! I'm coming in!" Still, I didn't respond. I heard my door swing open. "Oh, Lily, darling!" Mum exclaimed when saw that I was crying. "There's nothing to be upset about. You and Petunia are both going to make other friends. But you will always be sisters, and I'm sure you'll always be close friends."

"But… Mum…" I said slowly. "I—I feel like she's replaced me," I choked out, instantly sobbing.

"Honey, I don't know what's gotten into you. Petunia can't replace you. You're her sister. You too are stuck with each other." She chuckled. "You can get angry with her, you can get outright furious with her, but she's still always going to be your sister. Right?"

"Right," I replied half-heartedly.

"Now, how about straightening up a bit in here," suggested Mum, glancing at the clutter that was strewn around my room.

"Okay," I reluctantly agreed.

"Oh, and Lily," Mum added, as she stood to leave. "Please find a place for this. It doesn't belong thrown on the floor." She held up the picture Petunia had sent me.

"Fine," I snapped, sounding more annoyed than I meant to.

"Get to cleaning," said Mum sternly, before leaving the room.

After that day, I didn't write to Petunia again. I decided I wouldn't write her until she decided to write me. She never did. The year progressed slowly. I spent my time working extra hard on school work, painting, and playing dress-up with Laurel Streeter—which was marginally better than having nothing to do at all. After what seemed like an eternity, my school year ended.

"Petunia comes home on Friday," Mum announced one afternoon in early June. I didn't respond. "Oh, Lily," Mum sighed, obviously disappointed. "Why can't you be happy? You've missed Petunia so much. Now, she's finally coming home after almost a whole year, and you can't even smile?" I pointedly forced a smile. Mum didn't appear to notice. She sighed deeply.

"I wanted to decorate the house with flowers for when she gets home. I was hoping you'd want to help." I didn't reply. Mum turned and walked from the room, apparently preferring to avoid an argument.

I stood and grabbed the picture of Petunia and Caroline. Careful to avoid looking at Petunia's face, I jammed it facedown into the bottom of my sock drawer. I slammed the drawer shut. _There_, I thought. _At least it's not on the floor. God forbid. _

To the dismay of both my parents, I'd refused to go to the train station with them to pick up Petunia. Instead I stayed in my room, painting absentmindedly. The picture was of nothing in particular—just swirls of color twisting and turning around. Part of me was excited, but the more rational part of my brain told me not to get my hopes up. After all, Petunia certainly had changed. She wasn't just going to arrive home and turn back into my best friend again. We couldn't just pick up where we'd left off. It wasn't that easy.

As it turned out, I was right, at least to some extent. When my family arrived, I did walk out the front door to greet my sister before she entered the house. The girl that climbed from the back seat of the car didn't look like the sister I remembered. She'd grown even taller, but her arms and legs no longer seemed too large for the rest of her body. Her hair was longer and fell gracefully to the middle of her back. Her once stick thin frame now had the first traces of developing curves. She was even more beautiful and graceful than before as she walked towards the house. As soon as she spotted me a huge grin appeared on her face and she broke into a sprint.

"Lily!" she cried, throwing her arms around me. "You've gotten so much taller!"

"So have you," I replied, not knowing what to say.

"I've missed you! I have so much to tell you about!"

"Well good," I responded, being half-sarcastic. "Because life here was so incredibly eventful I could've died." I glanced up and noticed Mum and Dad watching us from the driveway, beaming. I rolled my eyes.

Petunia invited me into her room while she unpacked her things. Her room was neat and proper, just the way she'd left it. Little did she know I liked lying on her bed amongst all her pillows and staring out her window, which had a lovely view of Mum's garden. Now, I tossed the pillows aside and flopped myself down on the bed, watching Petunia unpack her clothes and put them in her dresser.

"How was your year, Lils?" she asked me. I shrugged.

"Okay."

"Just okay?" She raised an eyebrow.

"Well, it was kind of boring without you here," I admitted. "I guess hanging out with Laurel wasn't too bad though."

"Laurel Streeter?" Petunia made a face. "Her voice is so squeaky and awful!" _Yeah, but at least she doesn't ignore me_, I thought.

"Well, she's not so bad anymore," I lied. "So, how was your year?" I changed the subject.

"I thought you'd never ask!" Petunia exclaimed excitedly. "It was amazing! I absolutely love it there! Lils, we're allowed to decorate our dorms however we want! And our classes are over at two every day. We have rest of the day to do whatever we want! They have the most beautiful library. Oh, and the food is delicious."

"That sounds—" I started to talk but she cut me off.

"Not only that, but they have a dance studio that I can use to practice whenever I want! Our ballet teacher is so talented. We don't even get to participate in any performances until third year, but by then we'll be amazing. Oh, yeah, my best friend Caroline—the one I sent you a picture of—takes ballet too. And we're in the same dorm room. You'll love her, Lil. I can't wait for you to meet her." Petunia rambled on, and I nodded, pretending to listen.

"And there's this boy, Eric Gulden." Petunia sighed and smiled. "He's so adorable—and we're practically dating, Lil! He asked me to write him over the summer. Isn't that great?" She looked at me, grinning.

"Yeah, great," I responded quietly.

"Lily," Petunia looked at me. "I wish you were old enough to go to school with me. I've missed you."

"Well, it looks as though you've already found someone to take my place."

"What? You mean Caroline? We have a lot in common. I see her every day. But she's not my sister."

"She might as well be," I snapped, suddenly irritated. There was an awkward silence. I looked up, and Petunia was _crying_. I'd made my sister cry. And Petunia never cried. Suddenly, I panicked, jumped up and darted from her room to my own.

Petunia and I didn't talk much for the next few days. We weren't angry, per se, we just didn't know what to say to one another. We were perfectly civil, but we kept to ourselves. Of course, eventually, Mum and Dad realized that something was out of the ordinary.

"I hate seeing both of my girls sad," Mum finally blurted out over dinner one night. Petunia and I exchanged glances. "What's going on between you too?" Petunia took it upon herself to answer.

"Well, Mum, it seems we've grown apart since I've been away. I mean, I've done a lot of growing up in the last year. I'm twelve now; practically a teenager. And Lily, well, she's still just a little kid." Petunia smirked in my direction. It was a condescending smirk, something I'd never seen from my sister before. Petunia had always defended me, always stuck by my side. Now, here she was, writing me off as a little kid.

"I'm not little!" I exclaimed. "I'm nearly ten! Not only that, but I took all advanced courses in school last year! I'm smarter than most of those stupid twelve year olds you go to school with!"

"Lily!" Dad scolded. "That was uncalled for."

"She's uncalled for!" I exclaimed, pointing at Petunia, anger raging inside of me. Then, something extraordinary happened. It was as though someone had toppled Petunia's chair backwards. Only, instead of her body just falling to the ground with the chair, she flew backwards nearly ten feet, crashing to the ground with a deafening thud. The room went silent. Then, Petunia erupted.

"What did you just do to me?" she screamed. It took a second for me to realize that my sister was addressing me.

"I—I didn't do it. I didn't do anything." I was shaking all over. My parents' eyes were glued to me. Petunia remained on the floor, a look of sheer terror in her eyes. A second later, I bolted from the room, bewildered by what had just happened.


	5. Chapter 4

**Author's Note: Sorry this is a short chapter, but it seemed like a logical stopping point in the story. Thank you to all of you who have read and reviewed so far. Please enjoy!!**

**Chapter 4**

My heart still hammered in my chest as I rested, face-up, on my bed, staring at the ceiling. What had I done? Had _I_ really done it? Nothing made any sense. Certainly I hadn't meant to throw Petunia across the room. I hadn't even thought about it. My temper had just flared up, and the next thing I knew, my sister was airborne, her face frozen in fear.

I had to admit, deep down inside, that it had felt good to have that kind of power, even though I certainly had no control over it. The after-effect was such an adrenaline rush. I knew in my heart, somehow, that I was the cause of the incident downstairs. The more time that passed, the more convinced I became. It puzzled, terrified, and excited me. I stood up and stared at myself in the mirror incredulously, as if expecting to see someone different altogether. Alas, there I was, still Lily Evans, red hair, green eyes, annoying freckles. It was still just me.

Time passed. I stayed in my room, half expecting one of my parents to burst through the door, scolding me. I, at least, expected to hear Petunia ranting from downstairs about how I was a horrible sister. But the house remained silent. I didn't know why, but I suddenly felt afraid to leave my room; afraid of what they would think of me—of what anyone would think of me, for that matter. If I really had the power to do things like I'd done at dinner, then there certainly must've been something _wrong_ with me. Normal ten-year-olds didn't send their sisters flying through the air because they were angry. But then again, I was feeling less and less like a normal ten-year-old. _Nine-year-old, _Lily. I corrected myself. _You aren't even ten for another month._ But sometimes, such as right then, I felt much, much older.

As the days passed by, I was very careful to remain calm. After all, I wouldn't have wanted to become annoyed and cause something to blow up. My family certainly treated me differently. Mum and Dad acted as though nothing had happened, but they were distant with me. I think I scared them. Petunia refused to even acknowledge my presence, and I was fine with that. I didn't have the slightest idea how to apologize for something that I didn't try to make happen. And, honestly, I wasn't so sure I wanted to apologize at all.

It was fun, in a way, knowing that my family feared me. Mum never nagged me about cleaning my room, and Dad didn't lecture me about keeping up with my studies over the summer. Still, it hurt sometimes, because I felt that I was all alone in the world. My family feared me. Certainly there was no one who would understand me. I wondered how long it would be before my powers flared up again. I knew in my heart they would. I don't know how to explain it. Something had ignited inside me that day, and it was growing stronger all the time.

Late one night, after I was supposed to be asleep, I decided I wanted a snack from the kitchen. As I approached the stairs, I could hear my parents having a conversation in the sitting room below.

"Chet, I don't know what to think." Mum sounded worried.

"I told you, Sophie. My grandmother used to talk about them all the time. I never knew whether or not to take her seriously," Dad explained. _Them? Who are they?_ I wondered.

"Honestly, Chet, witches and wizards? Do you really believe in that rubbish?" Mum sounded close to tears.

"Well, first there was my grandmother. Then, a bloke I used to know had a cousin that went to a school for magic. Toad Warts or something…"

"But Chet, this is Lily. Our Lily! How can she possibly be a---a—w…"

"Oh Sophie," Dad said, comforting Mum.

I realized that I was standing, dumbfounded, at the top of the stairs. Witches, wizards, magic? Surely these things couldn't be real. And yet, there was my dad, of all people, talking about them, plain as day. I headed back to my room, not wanting my parents to know I'd overheard them. My mind swam with thoughts. Was I a witch? It sounded so absurd. I didn't wear a pointed hat or fly on a broomstick. I didn't brew potions in cauldrons or have a black cat for a pet. This was crazy.

I returned to my room and quickly fell asleep, exhausted from all my thinking.

The weeks went on, and everyone seemed to try to pretend that my little incident had never happened. Even Petunia made forced conversation with me when she felt she had to. Gradually, I began to relax again. I couldn't be a witch, there were no such things as witches. What had happened that day was just a random event, a phenomenon without explanation. Since then, nothing remotely strange had happened whatsoever.

It was a one-time occurrence, I told myself. I was almost convinced. But there was a fraction of my mind that wouldn't let go of the alternative. _A witch_.I couldn't explain it, but there was something appealing about the way that sounded.


	6. Chapter 5

_Author's Note: Thank you to everyone who read and reviewed! I am sorry it took so long for me to update. I was away over the weekend. I should be adding at least another chapter or two this week. Enjoy, and please read & review!_

**Chapter 5**

The long summer days lingered on, each one a little more dull than the last. Petunia spent most of her time by herself in her room. I didn't know what she was doing in there, other than that she sent lots of letters and received even more, from at least three different people, judging by the handwriting on the envelopes.

As for me, I tried to do anything to pass the time, so I didn't have to think about all the ways my life was changing. Laurel came over to play a couple times a week. I even convinced her to go to the park down the street a few times, which was much better than playing with dolls, or playing house. Mum kept me busy watering flowers in the garden, and I spent a lot of my time painting—mostly flowers from the garden.

My tenth birthday was actually a very good day. Mum and Petunia made me a beautiful cake, covered in flowers. We had dinner on the back patio overlooking the garden. Mum made roasted chicken with potatoes, my favorite. But, the very best part of the day was getting my presents. Mum got me a really nice oil painting set, with good brushes, and several canvases. I was really excited about it, because I'd never used oil paints before. I'd only ever had watercolors and acrylics. Dad gave me a beautiful bracelet. It was silver with lilies on it, linked together by a chain that looked like a vine. He also gave me a small leather bound journal. He told me that now that I had reached the 'double-digits' I was old enough to start keeping one. But my favorite gift, by far, was from Petunia.

I was sitting at the patio table. I had opened what I thought were all of my presents, when I saw Petunia pulling something out from under her chair. It was a beautifully wrapped package, with shiny purple wrapping paper and a glittery silver bow. She handed it too me silently, beaming, which I found highly unusual. I forced a smile back and opened the box. The gift inside was covered by tissue paper. I lifted it aside and gasped.

The dress inside was beautiful. It was a pale, mint green, with thin straps, and an intricate pattern of flowers embroidered on the top half. Then, it had a wide darker green band around the waist and the lower half had a full, flowing skirt that looked like it would come just to my knees. It had to be the most beautiful article of clothing I had ever owned.

"Petunia, I love it!" I exclaimed, grinning. "It's beautiful!"

"I bought it while I was visiting Caroline last winter," Petunia explained. "I have one too. Mine is blue." I jumped up and hugged my big sister.

"Thank you! Thank you!" I exclaimed.

"Why don't you go try it on?" Mum suggested. I took off running for my bedroom, Petunia close behind.

"I can't wait to see what it looks like on you!" she exclaimed.

"You should wear yours too!" For the first time in nearly a year I felt like I had my sister back.

I loved my dress. The fabric was silky and soft, and when I spun in a circle it fanned out all around me. When I showed Petunia she gasped.

"Lily, you look so grown up!" she exclaimed. "The dress brings out the green in your eyes. I knew it would." I looked at myself in the mirror. She was right. My eyes looked intensely green, and I did feel grown up in the dress.

"Can I fix your hair?" Petunia asked.

"Sure!" She arranged my hair so that my curls were in a neat pile on top of my head.

"Wait just a minute. I'll be back." Petunia darted from my room. She returned a moment later with a large white Lily. She tucked it into my hair. "There. Perfect. Look." She motioned to my mirror. I looked into it. For once I felt pretty.

"Let's go show Mum." Petunia said.

"Okay," I replied. "But you wear your dress too!" Petunia ran to her room to change. She emerged a few moments later, wearing a dress identical to mine in a light powder blue. It made her eyes sparkle. "You look lovely!" I exclaimed. "Let's go show Mum." We darted out to the garden where Mum was still sitting.

"Girls, you two look gorgeous!" She beamed at us. "Let me get my camera. I want some pictures!"

I still have my favorite picture from that day. Petunia and I are posing together under our weeping willow tree, back to back, both smiling. We both look beautiful.

We spent the rest of the day dancing around through the garden in our dresses. Petunia taught me some of her ballet moves. I was clumsy and she laughed at me. Then, I was even clumsier on purpose to make her laugh, and she laughed so hard that she fell onto the ground. Then I laughed at her and she jumped up and chased me around. This lasted until nightfall when we finally went inside.

That night, I slept in Petunia's room in my sleeping bag. We talked late into the night.

"Lily, I'm sorry I didn't write you very often this year," Petunia apologized. "I really did miss you."

"It's okay," I replied. "But I really missed you too."

"It's hard, being away," Petunia continued. "The schoolwork is so much harder, and I don't want to disappoint Mum and Dad. And ballet takes up so much of the free time I have. But I do love it."

"Yeah, school is weird without you there," I said. "I mean, I'm friends with Laurel, but she's rather annoying actually. I don't have anyone that I'm particularly close too."

"I hope Caroline can visit us sometime," said Petunia. "I know you'll like her. I think you'll be surprised. She's a lot like you."  
"Really?" I asked.

"Yeah," Petunia replied. "That's why we became such good friends. But, unlike you, she can actually dance," she teased.

"Oh shut it!" I exclaimed, tossing a pillow at her. She tossed it back, but missed me completely. "At least I can throw!" We cracked up laughing.

"Girls," Dad called through the door. "Time to quiet down and get some sleep."

"Okay!" Petunia and I called in unison. I stretched out in my sleeping bag.

"Good night, Lil. I love you," said Petunia.

"Good night. I love you too, Tuna," I replied, using my nickname from when I was too young to pronounce her name.

"Ugh, don't call me Tuna!" I giggled, before rolling over and falling asleep.

For nearly the rest of that summer, things were like the old days. Petunia and I spent nearly all of our time together. Our parents were obviously pleased about this as well. Dad even commented that his little wildflowers were wild once again, and we couldn't stop giggling.

I did my first oil painting that summer, for Petunia. I painted the picture she'd sent me at Christmas, of her with Caroline. I gave it to her the week before she left for school. On the back of it, I wrote a note.

_Dear Petunia,_

_I am sorry that I wasn't very nice to you. I am glad that we are friends again. I hope you have a good year at school. I will miss you._

_Love Always,_

_Your Sister, Lily_

As the end of summer grew closer, I became sad. It had taken a very long time to get my sister back, and once again she was going away. We still had a whole year to spend apart before I'd join her at school. I knew I'd miss her, more than I ever had before. But I never could have known how much things would change during the year ahead.


End file.
